


Delivery

by kizzack



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kizzack/pseuds/kizzack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every week the team receives mail from their families, friends, and others. This becomes a ritual, but later on one particular letter throws the usually energetic Scout for a loop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first TF2 fic ever but I wanted to try writing the team as ladies. This was a birthday gift for a friend of mine (thatgirlwiththebooks) and since she loves Sniper/Scout I thought I’d write something cute and fluffy. (I prefer not making my friends cry on their birthday.) I usually don’t write accents so this is new territory for me as well. Any help would be super appreciated!

Every few weeks, the Administrator had one of her underlings drop off the mail at the team’s location. Everyone, even Soldier, received something, be it a small package, a manila envelope, or a letter. Demo was always the first to tear open hers; for some reason her mother thought that shipping food was a good idea, so Demo always got home-made haggis or an expensive version of her beloved Scrumpy. Occasionally Demo unearthed a new weapon and cheered in joy. They were always small and usually harmless, although some poor mail carries had to deal with smoke bombs randomly exploding en route. Early on, the other team members wondered how Demo’s mother got some stuff through the mail. Heavy was the only one bravest to ask.

“Oi lass, ye dinnae about my mum, do ye? Ah, well, ye see this here eyepatch?” She pointed at it, grinning. “Mum, she taught me everything I know. It’s a family tradition to lose one eye in our family; me pap had his poked out by some dunderheid kidnappers. The other one he lost while workin’ with Mum. That woman, she could take mustard gas right ta the face and not flinch! She’s a crazy old bat, but ye dinnae wanna fight ‘er. She’d mop tha floor with ‘ye, lass. Alla us, actually, even Frenchie ova there.” She jerked her thumb back in Spy’s direction; in response she just made a sound of discontent and turned away. “I dinnae think anyone, even the Administratior, would wanna tangle with me mum.”

Unlike Demo, some of the other team members were much more secretive. Spy’s envelopes always bore a red stamp with the word “confidential” in capital letters. Sometimes stamps in other languages decorated the paper as well. As soon as the carrier passed her items to her, she slipped away, sometimes grinning, sometimes grimacing. Once Sniper thought it was a good idea to stop her; she grabbed her arm and snatched the envelope from her hands.

“Let’s see what the rat’s hidin’!” she said enthusiastically, waltzing back over to the team and putting the envelope on the table. Four stamps stood out, neatly arranged in a column.

“Ah, one is Russian!” Heavy cried out in surprise.

“What does it say then?” Sniper snapped, frowning.

“I will sauté you in your own piss!” the Frenchwoman yelled, trying to reach her envelope. With just a look and a smirk, Soldier and Scout teamed up and ran circles around her, laughing the entire time. She brandished the butterfly knife but Scout’s constant bouncing combined with Soldier’s sizable frame blocked her way.

“Oh, just says that is classified.” Heavy picked up the envelope and tossed it to Spy, who darted away upon catching it.

“You gotta ruin our fun, huh big lady!” Scout pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Vell last time your mother vas in…compromising position, so you should not complain.” Heavy smiled as Scout’s face turned red and she began to pout.

Meanwhile, no one really wanted to know what Soldier’s packages contained. Sometimes they were large, sometimes small, but they never bore any return addresses and Soldier always carried them to her room anyway. Scout occasionally looked them over, darting from side to side while searching for any identifying writing. Every time she was met with a shovel to the head and some variation of Soldier’s go-to insult, “maggot.” At first Medic used the Medigun on her, but gave up after Scout kept inquiring about her own mail.

“Shush, Kaninchen. It is nothing of interest to you,” Medic said repeatedly. Hers were always small envelopes that she tucked away into her coat pocket. Even Heavy didn’t ask about them; the solemnity in Medic’s voice and eyes deterred her. Heavy also received similar items, always in Russian, and read them quickly before having Pyro set them on fire.

“Mmph?” was Pyro’s first response to Heavy’s request, but she just shrugged and fried the papers to a crisp. Later on it became a ritual; Heavy glanced over the materials, then passed them over to Pyro, who gleefully sent them up in the air with the compression blast and sprayed fire at them. They landed as little embers, like snowflakes. To the other teammates’ chagrin, sometimes the embers dropped onto their hair, and once Scout’s ponytail became a flaming whip. Even with all the protests, Pyro continued doing this. Oddly enough, she also destroyed her letters after reading them. A rare chuckle escaped her at times, but usually her body language was limp, listless, and she went through the motions in a robotic way. One time she just chucked the letters in the trash and spent the rest of the day setting plants on fire.

On the other hand, Scout had no problem sharing her treasures. From new hats to hairclips to headbands to food, Scout’s mother gave her only the best. Whenever the Administrator alerted them to a new battle, Scout donned the newest accessory and wore it proudly, beaming as she shot up the enemies with extra vigor. On her birthday, Scout always got a birthday cake lovingly wrapped in aluminum foil and accompanied by a letter. She never missed a chance to read any and all of her letters aloud.

“ ‘Dear monkeybutter, I am so proud of ya. You gotta heart of gold and the money ya’ve made has helped so much with ya bruddahs’ stuff. Hope you can come home soon! Love, Ma.’ Is she not the best or what? Whoo!”

“Not as good as me mum!” Demo always chimed in, which led to an argument about whose mother was better. They either came to blows or shared whatever dessert Scout’s mother had included.

Engineer was also not that concerned with privacy, especially because almost all of her mail was comprised of blue prints. She called the ladies over and began babbling about the intricacies of sentries and the amazing advances in science. It was really only after victories and while checking her mail that Engineer let go of her chill demeanor. Of course, the offensive and defensive members wanted to know how well the new weapon killed people. Soldier bothered her the most, asking obvious questions such as “Can I blow off someone’s legs with this?” or “Will these new boots help me curb-stomp the other team’s Kraut into a pulp?” Surprisingly, Engineer answered congenially even while the rest of the team rolled their eyes in unison. Once in awhile she got sheet music instead, and she’d team up with Heavy, whose singing voice was unexpectedly beautiful. Unexpectedly, Demo was a good drummer, so they formed their own little band, with Scout playing air guitar.

Sniper checked hers last, after everyone returned to their respective areas. Her aging parents had decided to travel the world, so she received postcards from all over the place, along with pictures. One showed her mother and father holding hands while standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Another displayed her parents on a Safari in Africa. On the back of that one, her mother wrote that her dad really wanted to take home a cheetah as a hunting prize, but a puff adder had bitten him before he could join a group of poachers. As usual, he didn’t want to go to the hospital, yelling about his strong, immune Australian blood, but then he collapsed. He was fine; apparently he was partially right about his resistance to venom, since he recovered promptly. However, they had to leave early.

“Don’t tell your father this,” the end of the note read, “but I found that snake and chopped its head off. When you get home, we can make a necklace out of its head and teeth!”

It was the “when we get home” that made Sniper’s smile falter. Unless Engineer could build a teleporter to Australia, she had no idea when that would be.

\---

The mail arrived without issue, right after a battle. The women came in battered and bleeding. Blood soaked Spy’s mask and scarf, much to her annoyance. Part of Demo’s afro was still slightly on fire. A gash-covered Pyro attempted to play with the tiny flame and had an up-close and personal encounter with Demo’s empty bottle of Scrumpy. Soot coated Engineer’s entire body and her goggles hung by a few threads around her neck. Medic’s glasses hung off her face and one jagged piece of glass stuck out of her cheek; Heavy limped along, grimacing as blood gushed from her blown out knee. Soldier, Scout, and Medic helped her along until she was able to sit down. The only ones lacking injuries were Scout and Soldier due to a very recent respawn.

“Vell, ve von,” Medic said, trying to add some cheeriness to her tone. She hissed out a curse when she plucked the glass out of her face. Readying the Medigun, she focused on Heavy’s knee, fixing it within a minute. However, Heavy still held onto her leg like she was still injured. Even though the Medigun worked on the physical injuries, a “phantom pain” lingered; the brain did not catch up with the body, so the trauma stayed for some time after the healing. The doctor moved on to each member of the team until everyone was back in good shape.

“Tha’ bastard Pyro, prancin’ around like a dandy! Jus’ set everything on fire, even ye own teammates!” Demo went over to the fridge and fetched out a new bottle of Scrumpy. “I swear on me good eye, I’ll blow up that bambot before he can even yell for ‘is mum!”

“Zheir Heavy was no better, Mademoiselle, and zheir Scout was more annoying zhan you,” Spy said, glancing over at their own. Scout stuck her tongue out and made moose antlers with her hands. “Zhis is what I am talking about, ladies. Zhe zenith of maturity and grace, zhis one. At least zheir Spy was utterly incompetent.”

“Like Doc said, we still won! It’s mail time! Come on, we’re all healed!” Scout jumped around and bounded over to the table where the mail sat.

“I’ll get mine later, partner. I gotta take a shower,” Engineer chimed in. She took off her helmet and tucked it under her arm, but a pile of soot fell out and turned her blonde hair black. Sighing, she left.

“Man alla her sentries got busted. But I got their Scout in the balls and he started cryin’! One of my prouder moments.” Scout put her hands on her hips and smirked.

“Lass, shut yer trap and gimme my mail,” Demo interjected.

“All right, all right, you’re all a buncha grumps!” Sifting through the envelopes and packages, Scout took out Demo’s brown box first and tossed it over. Next was Soldier’s; she just looked at the sticker on the front and gave it to Pyro, then headed to her room. Heavy read her own letter before handing them to Pyro as well, who read hers last and then gleefully set them all on fire. After scanning over hers, Medic slipped it into the front pocket of her coat and sat down next to Heavy. Demo unearthed an expensive bottle of flavored Scrumpy and jumped for joy. For once, Spy actually had a box, which she eyed curiously. She cut it open at the table and found a carton of high-quality cigarettes.

“Mon cherie, you know me so well,” she whispered, then slipped away.

“Those are probably from your mum, Scout,” Sniper said, smirking. Scout glared and shoved Sniper’s postcard and letter off the table. Rolling her eyes, Sniper picked them up and sat down on the workbench next to Heavy. “Viva Las Vegas!” was printed in gaudy font on the postcard, and the letter detailed her parents’ adventures there, including the huge jackpot they hit. “‘You don’t have to send us money this week, hon,’” Sniper read aloud, shaking her head. “They just got damn lucky is all. But look,” she leaned over to Heavy and pointed at her dad, “he’s actually smilin’. I think the apocalypse’s comin’.”

Heavy chuckled and patted her on the back. “Drop bears may want his cash, Sniper! Tell him to be careful.”

“They’re more interested in flesh, mate. But ‘ey,” she lowered her voice, “the yackety yank ain’t makin’ a sound.”

“Da, is strange,” Heavy replied, furrowing her brow.

“Oi, girlie, who sewed up your mouth?” Sniper said. Scout stared intensely at her letter and remained silent.

“Is something wrong?” Medic asked, concern washing over her features. Even Demo put down her bottle and ogled the Bostonian.

“Just burn it,” Scout said, forcing the letter into Pyro’s hands. She stomped out, disappearing through the sliding doors.

They all looked at each other in confusion. “Vat the hell vas that?” Medic asked, leaning forward slightly to look past Heavy and gaze at the doors.

“Maybe ye’re right, lass, the apocalypse’s ‘ere. Scout keeps talkin’ while her innards are all over the place.” Demo took another swig from the bottle and sat down on the other bench.

“Maybe someone should talk vith her? Her mat alvays sends her things.”

Everyone stayed silent for a moment before Sniper stood up. “I’m gonna go check this out. I think I upset ‘er.”

“Tell us vhat’s wrong, da?” Heavy asked.

Sniper tipped her hat at her team members and smiled. “We can’t have our rabbit runnin’ out of steam, can we?”

\---

Knocking on the door gently, Sniper took a deep breath in and patted herself down, straightening out her clothes. She adjusted her long ponytail by pulling it tighter and made sure her hat was on straight. Scout liked when she was more put together. 

Scout cracked the door open and peered through, only a slim slice of her face visible. “What,” she said, voice flat.

“I wanna talk with you,” Sniper replied. She put one hand on the door frame and the other against the door.

“You gonna fight your way in? Because I will break your knee caps.” Scout lifted up her bat and waved it in front of her own face.

Sniper rolled her eyes. “Well now you’re talkin’ at least. C’mon, it’ll only be a flash.”

Cutting her eyes at Sniper, Scout huffed but opened the door, allowing her in. Sniper had been in there before, so the myriad baseball posters and pictures of family taped to the walls didn’t surprise her. Two other baseball bats sat next to her bed, which was just a simple mattress with metal foundation and headboard. Unlike Medic and Heavy, Scout felt no need to decorate her room in a beautiful and classy manner.

Scout plopped down on the bed with a thump and leaned her forearms against her thighs. Her face was blank, but her eyes had a glassy sheen to them. Sniper sat down next to her, far enough to give her space but close enough to appear friendly. Placing her bat next to the other two, she rubbed her eyes with one hand, the thumb and index finger dabbing at the edges. The two didn’t speak, and Sniper looked around the room, catching glimpses of Scout’s family. She was the only girl, and from what Scout had said in the past, she was constantly reminded of this. However, her mother’s love cancelled out her brothers’ pranks, and eventually Scout was able to ignore their jealousy when it came to her talent in sports. Besides not having a father around, things seemed relatively normal in Scout’s house.

“My ma’s sick,” she said suddenly, staring down in between her legs. Sniper snapped to attention.

“What’s wrong with ‘er?” Her voice cracked a little unexpectedly.

“I dunno. The letter was from my oldest bruddah. They’re at the hospital now, and they said she might be okay, might not. I dunno.” Scout took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. “Ya know, it’s not like my dad skipped out on us or anything. He just up and hadda heart attack and died. Too much stress from work, the doc said. I mean, I guess I was lucky, cuz I was able to getta job here and I helped out Ma. Even my bruddahs said I’ma life-saver. But I gotta stay here until we get time off.” She went silent, putting her head in her hands.

Sniper’s body stiffened and her lips curled inward. She had trouble getting a deep breath in, and although she wanted to speak, her tongue felt like a wad of cotton. She removed her own hat and paused for a moment before placing it on Scout’s head, who looked up, confused.

“My parents are old. My dad, he worked at Saxton Hale, doin’ construction, but then he fell by accident. They gave ‘im money and some help and he recovered. Physically. But mentally, he jus’ wasn’t the same man. It’s like the accident knocked all the manlihood out of him. He was never a jolly bloke, but he’s been a sad sack. Mum takes care a’ him all the time, but she ain’t getting any younger. I used to hate ‘im for bein’ so mean to us. He always said, ‘You’re a girl, you can’t do that! Proper girls find a nice boy and settle down,’ and it always sounded so stupid because ‘ere I was, shooting more gators and drop bears than anyone else at thirteen years old. He ain’t ever told me he’s proud a’ me, but you don’t ‘ave to say it all the time. We went huntin’ once, in the Outback. His mates were playin’ around and outta nowhere this pack a’ wild dogs comes runnin’ out us. I downed alla them real quick, and they were all nice to me after that, even respected me, I think, and Dad had a big ole grin on his face. ”

“What does this have to do with me?” Scout interjected, frowning.

“Hold on a minute! What I’m sayin’ is, we’re both dedicated to our families. Medic and Heavy ain’t got any left. I dunno about Soldier or Pyro, but Demo loves his mum. Engineer always talks about her grandpa. We may be mercs, but we’re still human, and we all got things we care about. You might not be able to leave right now to see your mum, but it’s obvious she’s proud of you. She sends you those obnoxious letters all the damn time.” Scout interrupted by punching Sniper in the arm. “ ‘Ey! You’re ‘elpin’ your whole family, and I think she’d want ya to stay. She wouldn’t want you doin’ anything stupid.”

“I really need to see her,” she said quietly.

“Scout, I may seem like a heartless bitch, but I miss my parents too. I dunno when I’ll see them again. I dunno how I’ll get back to Australia. I miss ‘em bad, and I wanna see ‘em up close and know they’re healthy and happy. I just can’t up and leave, though. I can’t just leave you all here. I’m dedicated to my family, but I’m dedicated to you girls too. So, what I mean is, you got us here. Everyone’s worried about ya. You’ll see your mum, don’t worry ‘bout that. The Administrator is batshit insane but she can’t break our contracts, otherwise you’ll break her knee caps.” Sniper smiled and patted Scout on the back.

A half-smile crossed Scout’s face. “You’re right.” She paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment. “I think Ma would like ya, Snipes. Even if you’re a’ asshole mosta the time. She’d be okay with ya. With, uh…everythin’, I think.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around Sniper’s waist, snuggling up to her.

“Your mum’s a good gal. She’s gotta good daughter too.” Sniper returned the embrace. Scout looked up at her, blushing a little, and Sniper shook her head. “One day you won’t get so red-face ‘bout this.”

“Shut up.”

Sniper leaned down and gave Scout a peck on the lips. “Now let’s go celebrate our victory, all right mate?” 


End file.
